And the Walls Became the World All Around'
by Barely Meeting Expectations
Summary: "He who fights monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster; for if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche. In which the monsters become targets of hate crimes and questionable experiments, and that's not even half of their overworld problems. Post-true ending, dark themes. Full summary and rating details inside.


**Title:** And the Walls Became the World All Around

 **Summary:** "He who fights monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster, for if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche.

After escaping the underground, monsters find themselves the target of hate crimes, discrimination and possibly another war. But this is only the tip of the iceberg: when monsters are experimented on and humans attempt to harness their otherworldly abilities "for the good of mankind", it begs the question: who are the _real_ monsters here?

 **Rating:** M for Mature/explicit content, including **dark, violent, sexual, and potentially triggering themes, including violence, major character deaths, self-harm, obscene language/humor, rape, abuse and many other things.** Proceed with caution. Do not read the fanfiction if you are sensitive to such content. You have been warned.

 **Genre:** General, Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Humor

 **Disclaimer:** The title is a quote from Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak (because the monsters kinda remind me of the wild things ok) and the quote is by Friedrich Nietzsche from his book _Beyond Good and Evil_. The rights belong to their respective owners, this was written purely for nonprofit entertainment purposes.

* * *

 **Chapter One: For the Good of Mankind**

" _Simply an amazing specimen!"_

" _Mr. Sharde, this is-it's impossible!"_

" _Oh my companions… after this… nothing is impossible. Humanity will_ flourish."

Bright, white lights aggressively glared into Sans's face as he gradually regained consciousness. It was useless to try to stay awake, he begrudgingly reminded himself, for he knew that he'd eventually succumb to that wretched and cold darkness again. He always did. It was a dizzying, and motionless slumber; it seemed almost lifeless. This was how it'd been for the past few days, although he honestly couldn't tell you if it had been days at all. As for exactly how long he'd been forced to endure this nightmarish hell, how many hours he'd been subjected to this unbearable feeling, he couldn't quite well say. Probably not as long as he felt like he'd been here, he reckoned, for it felt as if it'd been ages. It felt like it's been forever since his vision wasn't clouded and his thoughts weren't hazy. Nonetheless, trying to make any assumptions in this state of mind was a hasty and reckless move, especially from his own sharp and methodic point of view. It would be foolish to guess anything, for his memories were blurry and his thought process was completely lost to a haze of strong drugs and confusing miscellaneous sounds - and on and off, much like a faulty switch, he could catch flickers of his surroundings; flashes of white movement and hints of muffled noise before ultimately losing himself in the expanse void of his indecisive consciousness.

Excited voices could be heard left and right, almost like vultures circling him- he knew he was lying down on something soft and cold, but he felt like he was constantly falling, dropping into the ground below, making him incredibly nauseous- and they were wearing doctor-like attire and using some incredibly advanced vocabulary for what he assumed were humans. Were these people doctors? Was he at a human hospital? What had happened? No- were they scientists? Was he. . . were they actually . . . ?

He heard busy shuffling, stifled giggling, miscellaneous clicking and beeping sounds, hushed whispers, mentions of words like _magic_ and _scientifically impossible_ and _broadening,_ and maybe _extraction_ (and was that _stimulate_ or _postulate_? That was kinda weird, and he was kind of relieved he couldn't hear all of that conversation.) but he couldn't be sure, nor could he find a way to put together the words in his head. He was certain he heard screaming from a distance, and he was certain he heard pained, feeble moans in close proximity to him - was that _his_ voice? Wow, he sounded like shit. But it might have been some other poor monster trapped here in this hell with him. He had no idea. Everything was blurring together and fading again, from far away and then zooming in directly in front of his face, and it made him question his location, as well as his own sanity.

Sans had already seen brief glimpses and images of his location, but they were consistently lost to wave after wave of drowsiness and weightlessness; a solid white room, a solid white bed, and an extremely vivid, bright red. He remembered seeing a lot of red. Blood? Maybe. His? He hoped not.

He remembered hurting (a lot), but he couldn't necessarily _feel_ it, if that made any sense at all. It was a numb and dull pain, much like a persistent headache, but it was still a strong one, one that echoed throughout his entire body, all the way down to his fingertips and his toes. It felt like slow, meticulous grating against every inch of his paralyzed bones, or like having nails scratching down a chalkboard, only the chalkboard was his chest and it still made his teeth ache. And when he regained consciousness like this, the pain simply escalated, as did that disconnected, pain-ridden voice that surprisingly sounded a lot like his own. Sans remembered attempting to say something, but whether or not it was done hesitantly in his fading mind or meekly out loud, he didn't know. He couldn't say. He couldn't even remember what he was _trying_ to say. Was he actually trying, or, much like in his dreams, was he imagining himself trying? Not that he could tell the difference between the two anyways. It felt like he was floating, and it felt like he was speaking, too - or attempting to at least - but he couldn't hear anything. He could only hear some low, pathetic whine, and it sounded so much like a dying animal that Sans wanted to wake up a little more to help the poor creature, or comfort it at the very least. What a miserable, indescribable sound.

Now, although he couldn't quite recall a lot of things as of right now, he did remember how he (most likely) ended up in this situation. He remembered speaking with a human in a suit - and a snarky one, at that - and being swallowed up by a hoard of them; he remembered struggling, trying hard not to kill any of them, screaming for his brother, all before feeling very, very sleepy. How long ago was that? No idea. Was that actually what happened? Also questionable. Can humans actually drug a skeleton? The answer, apparently, was yes, but again, he had no idea. "Out of it" didn't even begin to describe this disassociated, unreal feeling.

Aside from the events leading up to what he could only assume to be a kidnapping, he remembered some of his life before the capture. Sans remembered how his hope of a normal life plummeted headfirst into the ground like a bird without wings; how it practically fell apart in his hands.

Sans remembered how everything fell apart as if it were yesterday… was it yesterday? He had no idea.

It began slowly, like how any sickness would; when monsters first showed themselves to the humans living on the surface, several unwelcoming and tense occurrences shortly followed. If there were monsters and humans together in the same place, tension skyrocketed. They were expecting, to an extent, to be treated this way. After all, it's been hundreds of years since they'd coexisted beside each other, and monsters had heard that humans tended to be very… selective. The world Sans was looking for was racist, but "selective" was what he chose to explain to Papyrus how humans could be a danger for a while. Monsters were wary, but wariness was not enough preparation when it came to what the humans resorted to. There was no understanding or acceptance, no respect or decency, and no effort or attempt to create peace that they could see. Slowly, looks of disgust towards the monsters turned into aggressive outbursts; uneasiness between the two steadily led to distrust; fear eventually evolved into a horrific scene that made monsters reconsider ever coming back to the surface in the first place. Violence against monsters; brutality, murder, discrimination, humiliation- Sans had been witness to horrors he couldn't have imagined in his darkest nightmares (and uh, he's had some _pretty dark nightmares_ ). All too quickly, these unnecessary acts of cruelty were shrugged off, shoved under the rug, considered to be "a temporary but an expected phase", according to countless clueless politicians, fighting for votes rather than monster rights. Nothing was being done, and innocent monsters were dying at the hands of humans. Again.

Which was why Sans and Papyrus found themselves at the grace of a human council, meeting to discuss, face to face, the fate of the monsters, as well as what was to be done with all of the excused hate crimes.

Sans remembered vividly that he was by no means dressed for the occasion. He refused a suit when offered one and opted for his usual blue jacket and basketball shorts and pink fuzzy slippers. Needless to say the humans couldn't stop staring at his fleshless legs, to which Sans would reply under his breath, "Take a picture. It lasts longer." or "Aren't I skinny enough to be a model?" Some laughed and some actually looked offended, to which Sans only responded in laughter as well (and sometimes with the ever so casual "Lighten up man, you look like you've seen a skeleton!").

Sans remembered eyeing the courts location suspiciously, wondering if it were customary to hold such important meetings in old, boarded up church buildings. He also didn't like the way there were broken pipes haphazardly strewn upon the ceilings, breaking through the walls and some erupting up from the floor, which Sans assumed must have been the result of years of neglect and abandon. A twinge of uneasiness settled in his ribcage, but he shrugged it off. _Humans_.

Sans also remembered how strange it was that there were no cameras, no news crews, nothing of the sort that was almost always present during feuds concerning monsters. Again, he shrugged it off, assuming that this would be a lot more civil than what was captured on television nowadays.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

His "opponent" (a well known and seemingly irrational anti-monster advocate) Mr. Sharde, was going on this huge and completely unrelated rant about how monsters are to humans like Satan is to Jesus (who were those guys anyway? Human tales? Some kind of spiritual metaphor? He hadn't the faintest clue but he would most certainly look it up later, because this _Satan_ guy was sounding more and more cool.) It honestly shocked Sans that a human wearing a suit could pretty much tell them anything he wanted and have them all believe him and agree to it. Was that how politics worked up here? Wow. No wonder why some monsters were concerned about how much longer they had up here. Humans were terrifyingly stupid.

Mr. Sharde, after having effectively bored and angered Sans, got to his final point.

"Thus, we the people - as a whole, I take it - all agree that monsters and humans should not and _can_ not live side by side, seeing that it hasn't worked out previously-"

Sans cut him off and laughed out loud, his low and grainy chortle drawing many glares and questioning faces from the fleshy council, to which he responded calmly.

"Okay pal," the sarcastic skeleton replied, acting as nonchalantly as ever, his brother looking nervously around the room as he did so. "But _previously_ , if I'm recalling human history correctly, you guys _actually_ believed that the universe revolved around the sun. Literally the most self-centered race in possibly the entire universe. Back then, you were also prone to slaughtering those with varying religions or color…" He looked at the council expectantly, seeing a lot of faces coming to the realization he was hoping they would. "Yeah… sounds awfully familiar, huh? So unless, unlike us monsters, you guys still believe that listening to old gramps is actually tantamount to advancing…"

To be honest, although Sans played off this entire thing as calm, he was scared. In fact, this whole "cool and collected" look wasn't particularly holding up well for him. He was just holding it up for Pappy. This was a pretty frightening ordeal in and of itself. After all, these humans (who were gazing at them suspiciously and seemed quite impatient about something, as if they were waiting for the meeting to end) were the same creatures that were slaughtering his own as he spoke. At this moment, monsters like Sans and his brother were being killed for no reason other than the fact that they were monsters. They were being kidnapped, experimented on, slaughtered on a mass scale, being sold into slavery. It made Sans want to slam his fists against the wall and question why nothing was being done, and why they were sitting around talking, pretending everything was okay instead of directly addressing the issue at hand. Of course, he learned early on that anything like this would just result in him being turned to dust. He'd seen it before - immediate action resulted in immediate annihilation. It was terrifying in that perspective, and even scarier due to the fact that if he so much as raised a finger at the wrong time, he could be taken out. And if it didn't take very much effort to kill a monster with average HP, it would be all too easy to do the same to him. Sans shuddered and tried to recollect himself. He had to be cool. He could die. It could actually happen, and there was no guarantee that Frisk would be able to reset, or at least return to their last save point. His friends and companions were dying. He didn't know whether or not this would be the last time he would see his champ, Frisk, or his almost-but-not-really-in-fact-far-from-it-although-he'd-like-to-pretend-it's-true-girlfriend/significant-other, Toriel. Sans knew he had to play his cards right, he had to make a statement, prove them all wrong, otherwise he could be targeted. He as well as his friends of course. But Sans, despite this disturbing reality, only laughed. Oh, humans. Claiming they were an intelligent and level-minded species only to justify their violence and hatred with childish reasons. It really _did_ make him laugh sometimes.

"My opponent has a good point in bringing up science." Mr. Sharde shrugged.

Sans deadpanned. "Okay, but what about literally everything else I just-"

"So, _Sans_ ," Mr. Sharde sneered, "Let's look at all of this from a… strictly scientific point of view, yes? People, take a good look at my opponent. What exactly _is_ he?"

And all eyes were upon him again, the short, stout, sassy skeleton whose sly look of amusement only further intrigued his human audience.

"Whoa, throw me a bone, doc." He lightheartedly chuckled. "My brother and I are monsters; specifically, skeletons, and not just any ordinary skeletons, just in case you couldn't figure that one out on your own. How else could I be this entertaining? And to be frank, we're proud to be monsters, too, just as proud as you are to be human. And uh, if I may be blunt, Mr. Sharde, you really _do_ get on my nerves even though I don't have any."

A slight giggle ran through the audience. Sans' face mischievously lit up.

Papyrus groaned in annoyance, but smiled anyway, and he hated it.

"Why are you so against monsters? What, does not having any skin and organs-"

"Sans! Not here-" Papyrus' giggle-ridden plea was in vain.

"Rattle your bones?"

"Sans!"

"Gotta bone to pick with us doc?"

Papyrus lost it completely.

Both Papyrus and the fleshies in the council laughed a little harder this time at the incredibly bad but admirable puns, only to be drowned out by a sarcastic, bitter sounding guffaw that only a mother could love, if she tried really hard.

"Ha! Hahaha! Wow, that was a knee-smacker that one! Good one, silly skeleton man! But I have a serious question for you since, apparently, you're just all fun and games."

Sans couldn't help but to glare. " _Silly skeleton man_ is not my na-"

"Do you not have organs?"

His smile widened both in amusement and disbelief. "...Sorry? What was that? You're gonna have to speak up, since I don't have ears either."

"Organs, Sans, do you have any?" Mr. Sharde repeated, ultimately having missed the answer in the heavy sarcasm. "I don't think you do." He eyed the skeleton suspiciously.

Sans wiped a tear from his eye. "Ha! W-wow doc, I mean, I can't get anything past you; you can see right through me, huh! Sharp eyes, Mr. Sharde, sharp eyes. How'd you know?"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Sharde bellowed over the laughter in the room. "Can we just focus our attention, not on the fact that these creatures are attempting to blend in with us, but on the fact that they themselves physically contain thousands of unanswered questions that we have been searching for for years! For example, Sans, how are you talking without a set of vocal cords? Papyrus, how can you be so vain without a brain?"

Papyrus' laughter died out and his face warped into a hurt expression. "Vain? I'm not-"

"Hey!" Sans shouted. "That's not o-"

"What is the essence, the life force, the _spirit,_ the driving energy that keeps these unrealistic figures going, existing? How are they possible?" He straightened his suit and smirked happily. "Sans, you know what fuels you. You know why you exist, don't you? Can you say it nice and loud for the people to hear you?"

At first, Sans chuckled, and then he realized what the human was getting at. Sans' smile fell immediately. He looked around uneasily, beads of sweat beginning to form along his forehead. He didn't like where this was going. He cleared his throat to respond.

"... Okay. Look pal, if you think I don't see what you're doing here-"

"Why, it's magic, ladies and gentlemen! He's said it himself previously. Sans himself is capable of using magic at a whim, pulling it out of thin air! A good majority of these monsters are magical beings. Can you believe it? Magic! Something we thought to have been found only in fairy tales! This is a significant opportunity for us, as a society, as a nation of intellect, as the world! But monsters are the only ones, apparently, who are given this most amazing, godlike energy - at least, until we take it upon ourselves to harness it and use its knowledge. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Papyrus violently shivered. "You're… you want to experiment on us? But… why? It's so-"

"No." Sans said sternly. Papyrus slowly shrank back behind his brother, who was now growing overly agitated and was seriously considering taking this human down a notch or two with his powers. "NO. You're not doing this. We're not doing this. You're not even implying this, are you? You've gotta be kidding me! That's not- you're being sarcastic right?" _Please tell me you're not even considering-_

"How do they even have emotions?" Mr. Sharde exclaimed as he motioned to the short skeleton's angry face, further aggravating him. "Are they not supposed to be dead beings, skeletons? Are they not reliant on organs? How is their existence possible? Do you see what I'm getting at, ladies and gentlemen? Do you not understand what our responsibility is as a human race here? Our responsibility as a civilized, modern and advancing society? Let us not see them as enemies or hindrances, let us at least try to see them as what pushes humanity forwards."

"Don't you consider that a little barbaric, Mr. Sharde?" One of the members in the crowd spoke up inquisitively, giving Sans the distraction he needed to take action.

The short skeleton whipped around and whispered up to his ridiculously tall brother, "Papyrus, go get Undyne and Tori. I have a really bad feeling about this. We need more monsters here, just in case something goes wrong."

"Are you going to stay?"

"I'm gonna talk some sense into them. Now go."

Papyrus obviously wanted to stay, one could see it in his eyesockets, but after ultimately deciding that having more than two monsters would probably be a good idea in this situation despite what the human council requested, he nodded and began to walk briskly out of the room. "Stay safe, Sans! I'll be right back!" He quietly begged.

"Safe's my middle name, bro." Sans smiled. "And I'll be right here."

 _If I'm lucky._

"-and in conclusion, one has to try and consider it this way," he refocused himself on Mr. Sharde's heartless speech. "How exactly are we expected to get along with them, much less live alongside them, if we don't even know who they are, what they are, what they're capable of? We must learn more about them, to ensure our safety, to further our science, and see to it they are useful to-"

"Haha! Hey, hello!" Sans spat outrageously, not intending to sound as angry as he apparently did, but still satisfied with how quiet the council fell.

"Yeah, sorry for interrupting your conversation about us, the monsters you're talking about, revolving around us, the monsters, and our safety, and our rights, haha how rude of me."

"Sans, do you have any _intelligent_ contributions to make?" Sharde grimaced.

Sans' socket twitched. "Alright. Mr. Sharde, okay. Let's look at this from a scientific point of view. Not only are you being completely illogical in believing that inhumane forced experimentation is the only way to learn about monsters, but your intentions beyond that are questionable, sadistic and laughable. 'Further your science?' By that logic, I could take any one of your fleshies down to the Underground and use you to further my own human research - oh, I see those looks. Don't like that, huh? Well how do you think we feel, kidnapping our friends and family, using them for your own twisted purposes? You speak as if we were only sent up from the underground to benefit mankind, when in reality, we just want to live a normal life, not locked up down there in the basement. I'm not out to experiment or be experimented on. I mean, I may not have a heart, but unlike you, I'm not heartless."

Sans, now alone and growing weary because of it, turned to the human crowd. "Anybody - scientists, authorities, children, everyday people, all of humankind - can gain the knowledge you're seeking simply by getting to know us as people and not as objects-"

"But you're _not_ people, Sans." Mr. Sharde glowered, standing over Sans' short frame intimidatingly. "You're monsters, and you seem to keep forgetting that. You and your kind are unlike us… Look! Even now ladies and gentlemen, phenomena beyond our grasp - his eye is glowing and you can feel its energy in the air." Sans had unintentionally activated his powers out of anger, stirring up the council as gasps resounded and sparked interest spread throughout the crowd.

"How is this possible? He doesn't even have any eyes! And they switch as well, from white pupils to a single blue outline. Are they illusions? We can solve these mysteries! We can become the most advanced species in this universe after we harness and even recreate these amazing abilities! We can-"

"Hey! Listen to me, Sharde! You're not experimenting on anybody! Y-you're just power hungry! It's not about information to you, it's about power! It's always been about power and fear with you things! We're talking living, breathing beings here! Mothers! Children! Families! We're not some stupid animals! We're just like you! We're probably even smarter than you! We can feel just like you can, and we shouldn't be subjected to this sick… this sick motive you have in the name of science! And I'm a scientist! I'm probably better at it then you are! Even I know the limits! This is inhumane!"

"Mr. Sans, I'm afraid that humanity only applies to _humans_."

Agreeable murmurs echoed throughout the crowd. They weren't listening. None of them were listening. Sans could see it on their faces. And they all had a strange flicker in their eyes. The entire council was looking at him funny, turning to each other, giving wordless signals. And they all nodded at Mr. Sharde's words, discussing it quietly among themselves,

"It's true,"

"Sharde has a point,"

"Think about the long term effects,"

"I don't want to learn from them the hard way,"

"This is the only way."

"It has to be done,"

A sick feeling collected in Sans' stomach.

"Wha- are you guys even listening to yourselves? You're acting out of impulse and it's getting really hard to take you all seriously - and this is coming from a guy who does nothing but joke around!"

None of them were laughing. They looked straight into his eyes. Suddenly Sans regretted dismissing his brother. It's been a long time since he's felt this afraid. He swallowed nervously.

"L-listen, from my understanding, you're a very smart species, okay? A reasonable, compromising species. I don't mean to brag here, but I'm not kidding you when I say I know things, spectacular things, that could blow your mind and change everything you thought you knew about reality, about your existence, about your souls; you can't get that by _experimenting_ on me! Not to mention that I conduct experiments myself - only _my_ mentor had the decency to teach me about morality, unlike some of us here." he looked into Mr. Sharde's glaring eyes as he spoke, "It's almost like the species who doesn't care about humanity and reason are the humans themselves! Look, there's no need to impose any of this insanity! Several other monsters and I can most certainly just explain to you that this magic is simply just soulpower-"

Mr. Sharde intervened. It wasn't happening fast enough for his liking. He bellowed, "Look how violent they grow, my people! Look how angry they become when questioned! How are we to know if they are lies? How are we to know they have evil intentions? How are we to know that they won't lose control? They are a safety hazard! They endanger us! He is threatening us! What is he capable of?"

Sans' eyes grew wide as he realized that Sharde was riling the crowd up, making them severely uncomfortable and agitated.  
"What? I- no, I'm not threatening anybody! This isn't violence, I'm just- hey!" Several humans leapt up from their seats and, with eager eyes and outstretched arms, reached for him. There it was, that terrifying glimmer in their eyes. It was bloodthirst, curiosity, selfishness and determination. It was of ill intent.

Sans decided right then that his presence was no longer needed and therefore the meeting was over, narrowly dodging the desperate claws as he slid past them and took off towards the only door in the shabby building. He reached out to throw the doors open and make a break for the street (maybe he would meet Papyrus halfway and tell him to high-tail it back home), only to skid to a stop in the center of the room and stare at what was before him. There were humans barricading his only exit, all equipping eerie red gas masks.

 _Don't kill anyone don't kill anyone don't kill anyone DON'T kill anyone,_ he repeated the mantra in his mind in an urgent effort to calm himself down. And it was exceptionally difficult. Sans actually considered letting himself lose control and show these disturbing creatures just what he was capable of, how he could wipe them all off the globe if he wanted to, but after some considerable thought prior to even showing up at this "meeting," he thought: what would that do for the monster community? Simply put, it would fuel more hate and encourage the quarantine of monsters underground again. It would probably even result in a mass monster genocide. He couldn't let that happen; they fought to hard to get where they were now, and if Sans wanted to ensure the safety of Pap, Tori, Frisk and all the others, he had to stay calm. He had to think about the humans. He most certainly didn't have to comply, but he did have to keep himself under control. He could potentially reason the monster prejudice with other humans using this exact event and how it all went sour. That is, if he survived the "sour" bit, which he was still fairly uncertain of. He took a deep breath and forced his powers to simmer down slightly, although his hands and blue eye were now glowing a bright sky blue and refused to let up.

"S-stop it! This isn't okay!" He attempted to say sternly and confidently, although his voice was cracking and his hands were now shaking. After a few seconds of panicked thought, he suddenly realized why they had only asked for no more than two monsters at the meeting, compared to dozens of humans. It was a sick, dark move. It was taking all his might to not kill any of them for what they pulled. It was also taking a ridiculous amount of effort to pretend that he wasn't afraid.

Mr. Sharde stepped forward and let out a howl of laughter. Suddenly Sans was hyperaware of the size difference between the two.

"Sharde," the stout skeleton spat, rapidly taking several steps back from the man that now towered over him intimidatingly, "I don't think you want to learn the hard way what I'm capable of. You take one step closer to me, you're gonna be in for a bad time-"

"All of you monsters come in here with a disgusting amount of confidence, feeling more powerful than God himself. But you forget that humans are the godliest. We've been watching monsters like you for the longest time. We know what you freaks are capable of. This isn't our first 'meeting' after all. You're free to do your worst. A handful of us die, maybe. Fatalities are bound to happen in the name of science. But in the end, the monsters always fall. Even if they escape, they fall. You think the humans out there will think you're defending yourself? I don't think so."

That most certainly caught Sans' attention.

"You look surprised. What, do you think we actually invited you because we want to hear what you have to say? For a scientist, you don't really think things through, do you? You know, it's interesting - there was a monster in here earlier with the same amount of confidence and, well long story short. They're dead now. Isn't that ironic?"

Still glaring, the skeleton asked, "Why are you doing this?" He shot glances around the crowd, all putting on masks and staring at him blankly. "W-why are you all doing this to us? We… I thought that humans-"

"Oh, calm down, Sans, you look like you've seen a skeleton!" Mr. Sharde spat sarcastically, sliding on a mask of his own. "I wasn't expecting you to be this spineless. It's not like you're gonna die… well, at least not until we're through with you. But what's left after that _will_ be needed for further research, so I hope you weren't expecting a grand funeral or anything. I'm quite certain monster dust is useful in crafting, or resurrection… wouldn't you think so?"

Sans didn't notice the strange hissing sound until it got loud enough to clearly resonate throughout the room. Sans immediately noticed a sweet and tangy smell in the air, and his eyes widened when he realized why the pipes had been exposed.

"Don't worry, my bony friend. When we're through with you, your death will be quick. _Humane_. Isn't that what you wanted? It's fair isn't it?"

They were circling him like vultures. There was a darkness lurking in their eyes. Mr. Sharde chuckled when he saw that Sans had begun to cough into his hands aggressively.

"Experiment one." He growled.

Now, Sans wasn't easily scared. Granted, he had some nightmares that made him wake up screaming, but this was a whole new kind of fear. Not the hopeless kind. Usually he was used to stuff like this, but last time he checked, the monsters were the ones killing the humans, not vice versa. This wasn't supposed to be how it went down. And yet here he was, terrified out of his mind, faced with a race that intended to use him for "the good of mankind." He needed Toriel. He needed his younger brother. Even Frisk would have helped to calm him down in this situation. But he was alone. He couldn't do this alone. He could barely face Chara alone. He scanned their faces as this newfound horror surfaced on his expression.

Mr. Sharde beamed.

"Call for help. I _dare_ you."

He completely lost it.

"PAPYRUS!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs, hoping that Papyrus had somehow ignored what he'd told him to do like he always did and was actually eavesdropping just outside. No luck. His brother actually listened to him this time. Maybe they would be back in time? He highly doubted it. The humans laughed at him, jumping forward and making him flinch. "Ha! Call for your brother, Sans! No one can hear you! You're the one who wanted him to go in the first place! Thanks for that, it makes our job much easier!"

The funny smelling substance filled the air of the strange church-styled room and Sans, no longer concerned about the safety of the humans, immediately resorted to using his powers out of desperation and fear. So much for keeping himself contained. He figured he kept cool long enough anyways (he was proud he held off this long), and now he was willing to do anything to just get back home and never see these humans ever again. After this, he would just stay underground. He'd seen enough of the surface. He hadn't expected things to go so wrong - and he's seen things go wrong before, he's seen people change, friends die, blood rain. He's seen old friends turned enemies and die at his hands, but this… This was a whole new level of shock, although to be quite honest, he wasn't that surprised that a race so heartless and determined as the humans would actually do this to him.

With an angry shout, he gestured his glowing hand to the laughing humans and threw his it to the left, whacking them out of in front of the door (although not with as much force as he liked, he noticed bitterly), and as he made a break for it, he summoned two or three gaster blasters, commanding them to blast the door open. As far as he was concerned, they would be lucky if he didn't blow the roof off of this place. But he just had to make it out onto the street, then somebody would be bound to help him, right? All humans weren't this heartless, right? Certainly there was enough noise and commotion to make people suspicious enough already, right? He'd just been screaming! If they didn't help him, he would just run. He would flee. It was something he'd never imagine himself doing, but it was looking to be his only option.

The gaster blasters didn't so much as prepare themselves to deliver an energy blast before they faltered, glitched, and withered back into thin air.

Sans watched this happen in disgust and fear before he coughed again, this time taking a good look at the hands he was coughing into. The powerful blue, the sign that his power was present, was gradually fading away. The gas was messing with his powers. His legs had begun to quiver. Sans was weary of stuff like this, of being taken advantage of, of being a victim, but he hadn't actually been expecting the gas to affect him in the slightest (he was a skeleton for God's sake), so of course it would serve to make him completely helpless and vulnerable. He had 1 HP - what was he expected to do without his powers?

He was standing cluelessly in front of the door now, the council slowly, almost mockingly cornering him, which made him realize that the door was, despite being barricaded, still not budging and refused to move. Was it locked? Was it just jammed? Had they made it monster-proof? Under normal circumstances, he could throw together one of his infamous skeleton keys, or if there weren't a lock hole, he could maybe even dissolve the entire door and walk through. Unfortunately, these were no normal circumstances; it made Sans wonder who else they had captured to know how to mess with his powers, how many times they had done this precise scam to trap magical beings such as himself. Maybe he could still teleport? God, why hadn't he thought of that before his powers were affected!? He would have been out of here by now. Sans attempted to teleport regardless, only to find that he glitched a few inches to the left before becoming stable and nearly smacking himself against the wall, much to the amusement and interest of his soon to be captors and experimenters. He scowled at himself internally. He should have seen this coming. He should have been more careful. He should have done something else instead of panic or attempt to reason with them. He should of figured this out sooner!

He quickly realized that standing there in awe at his lack of powers was getting him nowhere and that he should probably do something before the gas affected him any further, and he faintly heard voices passing by from the other side. The streets were stuffed with human civilians. Sans considered his options, a) simply succumb to the drug, or b) attempt to escape while he was still conscious.

Unbeknownst to humans, monsters were determined as well.

"HELP!" He screeched as loud as he could. He was dismissing the pride that he still had, simply and desperately resorting to throwing his balled bony fists on the door and hoping that someone would hear him. he remembers his aching hands leaving deep marks on the door, looking around for windows only to realize there were none. He remembers feeling like he was suffocating. He remembers violent coughing fits. He remembers shaking. "SOMEBODY HELP ME! Please! For the love of God! _Please!_ "

He was certain that humans could hear him from the other side - he knew for a fact that they could hear him, they had to; they probably even heard him raising his voice not ten minutes ago. But the door was only so thick, he knew, he _knew_ that they could hear him! He could hear them out there, bustling, busy lives, like Sans' own, just like the monsters in the underground. He could hear some stop and question it, and then simply carry on with their day. He could hear them decide not to intervene. Sans pleaded once more, thinking to himself whether or not the door had been barricaded from the other side, further crushing his hope of escape, so he grew louder and louder.

But nobody came.

It was as if they knew what was going on and decided against interfering. It was as if they saw it as an inevitable reality that, much like the death of a loved one, you had to accept and move on. He was already dead to them. He was a dead man- no, not even that. A monster.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Although he was still standing, he could feel himself giving up, getting tired, losing determination, feeling dizzy. Sans hollered loudly once more before he gave in to a violent hacking fit and found himself slinking against the door weakly, deeply inhaling the peculiar scent as it completely consumed the room. " _Please no…_ " He sobbed, coughing uncontrollably again.

He heard stories. They were all unrealistic, gruesome nightmarish stories. The kind of stories that kept children awake at night keeping a suspicious eye on their doors, the kind that kept them weary of the shadows. This was all a nightmare. It had to be, this couldn't actually be happening. There was no way this was reality. This isn't what Frisk had freed the monsters for. Sans was both surprised and sickened that people were walking by the door completely clueless of what was going on, careless smiles on their faces while this was happening, hearing it and not giving a damn. Even worse was that they had originally anticipated to be drugging and experimenting on _two_ monsters that day, Sans _and_ Papyrus. The bone brother duo, perfect for a scientific comparison of experimentations. If there was anything positive in this situation, it was that if he was lucky, he would be unconscious during the ordeal - and that he had dismissed Papyrus from this dreadful situation. He would gladly accept this fate a hundred times over so long as his brother was alright, but despite this, he would regret a lot of things. He would regret not telling Toriel how he really felt about her from the very beginning, since they had met that day on either side of the knock-knock joke door. He would regret not telling Papyrus about all of his abilities and all that he'd seen, or telling him that he secretly envied him for the confidence that practically radiated off of his bones. He would regret not telling Frisk that Sans was the best "dunkle" in the world simply because that sweet little child was the light of his bleak and uninteresting life - and he would regret never thanking them properly as well. He would regret telling Grillby that he had the best ketchup in all of the Underground, and that he was probably one of his best friends, that he was so grateful that Grillby would comfort him when he sought companionship, acceptance, and a place to cry. He was especially grateful that Grillby would listen to all of his problems, so that sweet Papyrus didn't have to endure them or the aftermath of having them fester in his tired mind. He'd regret so, so many things. He'd heard stories, so many horrible stories - dismemberment, mutilation, chemicals, possession, electrocution, starvation, torture, humiliation, violation... What if he didn't make it? What would they do with his dust? What if Papyrus discovered it? What would he do then? What would become of the monsters? He's heard all of the stories. He never thought that any of that would be happening to him. He never thought that he would be the one to go. Yet here he was. He had to accept that, and it was hard.

As the horrifying reality of the situation finally sank in, Sans felt all of the determination drain from his aching bones. Slowly, he collapsed and curled into himself, sobbing silently and kind of disappointed that he didn't catch on to any of this until it was too late (and mostly disappointed that he didn't just kill them all when he had the chance.) Usually, he would be a lot more modest than he was currently being, out of respect for his tough facade and his considerable amount of pride. He's never cried in front of anyone but Papyrus, and even that was pushing it - and don't even get him started on Mettaton watching him cry. But, unlike previous situations when he was faced with a situation that promised death like this, he was able to smile it off. To laugh about it. To teleport away or throw whoever was responsible so high into the sky that they didn't come back down till next November. Until the next reset. He was supposed to be the tough one. The savior. The sly, funny one who was always calm and cool no matter what was going down, the one who makes sure everything's okay. But now his powers were of no use to him. His brother was long gone. He was helpless and alone, both of which he had never been (at the same time, at least). He was falling in and out of reality. His brother wasn't here to help him, and there were no monsters here, save for the ones surrounding him. He was utterly alone with these things - he had forgot how terrifying they were.

Sans clenched his eyes shut and sobbed under his breath. " _T-tori… Frisk, Pap, I-I'm_ so _sorry-... no..._ "

They were getting nearer, completely unmoved by Sans' breakdown, if not more intrigued. "It's… it's crying, Sharde." one of them said. "Do you think it feels pain?"

"We'll find out soon, doctor. Very soon."

Before he could even think, they were upon him, reaching for him.

And that was all he remembered before everything went black.

And the blackness went on forever.

And Sans had quickly noticed, in his drugged state, a peculiar pattern.

 _Black._

 _A flicker of light, screaming, and then silence. That floating feeling, then a sick one. Black again._

 _Another flicker of light. Soft touches. Something he hadn't in a long time - pleasure, pulsing through his lower half, and then a sharp pain. Laughter. And then silence. Black._

 _There was no light the second time he'd felt it, and he'd liked to believe it was a strange dream, intended to free him of his stress and the constant stillness he'd gotten used to on this disturbing drug. It had only confused him. Can't move to stop it. The touches continue. The pain returns. Familiar laughter (not the good kind). Silence. Black._

And the entire thing resumed for a good three rounds until something finally broke the pattern. Something new, and something familiar, but in a good way.

After a long period of silence (was that him sobbing or some other tortured monster that was trapped here?) he heard it - that familiar voice, that high pitched, slightly aggravating voice that he'd been longing to hear for so long.

"Sans! Are you in here, brother? Where are you? Where have those awful humans taken you? Please! Say something!"

Usually, in situations much less serious than this, Papyrus would be giddy at the chance to help his brother. Sans remembered, much to his embarrassment, getting stuck in a tree attempting to help Frisk get down (how they'd managed to get up there all by themselves, he had no idea). Papyrus had been the one to suggest, "Instead of cheating with your powers, why don't you actually exercise and climb up!? Frisk would appreciate the effort!" Hearing this, the child shot him a thumbsup and shined him a cheeky smile. Sans thought it would be fun to try, and then realized that he preferred his powers over actual effort because he was the laziest person he knew and it grew very tiring very quickly. This resulted in dangling off of a branch (rather high up off the ground, mind you; it must have frazzled him to the point in which powers were no option) cursing at himself and telling Frisk to cover their ears; and Papyrus couldn't help but to mock him. "Sans! How did you even manage to get stuck up there!? And you can't get down now!? You're so lazy! But worry not! I, the Great Papyrus, will save you! Then you can use your powers to get them down! Here, on the count of three, jump! One, tw-" He remembered attempting to jump from the tree and into Papyrus' open arms and nearly missing, resulting in both of them falling down face first into the mud and then rolling all the way down the hill, all the while Papyrus was screaming his name angrily. It ended with laughter and a mud ball fight, which was a really interesting development, in Sans' opinion. Frisk was stuck in the tree until Undyne heard them screaming at the wrestling brothers for forgetting about their presence.

Those were good times, Sans thought to himself, before realizing that the familiar voice was getting closer. He must have nodded off a few minutes before, because they were significantly closer than before. Would they be close enough to hear him if he spoke? Could he speak, or was his body still not listening to him? Well, it was worth a shot. Sans took a slow, deep breath.

"P-Pap... I... h..." After a few failing attempts to speak, the exhaustion returned and the stout little skeleton gave up. It was getting dark again. He was beginning to float. _I'm so tired, and I've probably just been sitting here this whole time. I really am a lazy bones, heheh._

Someone must have heard him, because before he knew it, several rapid footsteps and worried voices he recognized were now entering the room.

"Sans! Oh, my poor brother, what have they done to you? Are you alright? Say something! Sans!?" He heard a voice directly above him, his brother's voice, he assumed, but he was drifting away again.

"I…" _I'm trying. I'm literally trying my hardest, Pappy, it's a first for me. But you have_ no _idea how tired I am. I swear I'm not being lazy this time, Papyrus, I…I guess you could say I worked myself to the_ bone _._

Silently, Sans scowled at himself. Losing consciousness (he hoped he wasn't dying because that would really suck) and still cracking puns, regardless of whether or not others could hear them.

For a second or two he felt like he was being shaken by his shoulders, even thwapped on the cheek a few times, with a fair amount of force. But it was numb, and Sans couldn't particularly react to it.

A female voice could be heard this time, soft and gentle. "Sans! Papyrus, please move over a moment... Oh no,you... how...how could I have let this happen? I should not have let you two go alone! I'm so sorry, Sans, you do not deserve this… This is my fault. I should not have ever brought this meeting to your attention, for I did not know it..."

"... Ih's 'kay," he chuckled under his breath, his face momentarily twitching into what he hoped they would perceive as a lighthearted smile. Wow. He was really, really tired. _I'm okay,_ he thought uneasily, _we're okay._

He closed his eyes fully now, despite the several voices over his head telling him not to. They could shove off for all he cared. He deserved a break. He deserved a rest.

"... Nehm… just g'na... slep…"

"Sans!? Come on you nerd, wake up!"

"Undyne, the humans! They're coming back!"

"Grab him and let's go then! We gotta move!"

"We must hurry!"

Scrambling, hurried sounds.

 _And then black._

-~-d-x-t-x-r-m-i-n-a-t-i-o-n-~-

The darkness of the now vacant and silent home sent shivers down Frisk's frail spine. They were already supposed to be in bed at this hour, but rattled by the deary silence and tension of the events that took place prior, they couldn't sleep. Instead, they wandered around, turning the lights on and sneaking into the pie since goat mom was not home. Granted, the child was very much used to staying home alone by now, thanks to a certain pair of brothers that constantly forgot to show up for babysitting, but quite recently, one of those brothers came crashing through the window (literally; there was a gaping hole in one of the windows now and it was making the house chilly) out of breath, saying something about Undyne, humans and Sans. And danger.

Frisk wanted to go, as they couldn't remember much about the surface ever since falling down here, but Toriel merely shook her head. "No, Frisk. You must stay here, it's far too dangerous up there for you to come along. Humans are… not who they once were. Not merciful, like you." Her expression then changed from sadness to anger as she turned her attention to Papyrus.

"Now Papyrus, what about Sans and the humans?"

And then they were off to fetch Undyne.

Leaving Frisk alone at home wondering what on earth could happening that was so urgent in the world directly above their heads.

They found this to be quite shocking, considering the fact that they originated there, but now they were kind of relieved that they had decided to stay down here despite being given the option to return. Most of the monsters were still trying to find places to stay and start their new lives on the surface; however, due to recent events, some of them had been rethinking this decision, or put it off entirely. So there was still a good amount of monsters in the underground and in the small monster town just beside the gaping entrance.

It couldn't have been good if Papyrus required Toriel's and Undyne's help. Then again, it couldn't have been good at all if Papyrus couldn't take time out of his day to actually use the door and instead jumped through the window. Frisk had often asked themselves what it was with Papyrus and jumping through windows, but they didn't complain or question it, because under normal circumstances, it would have been funny. But this time… Frisk didn't know what to think.

… Yeah, that was it. Frisk just needed some fresh air. Their mother didn't mind it when they stayed in the boundaries of the monster village above them. And with the new elevator that helpfully transported monsters to and from Snowdin and the center of the village, it would be quite easy to visit; odds are the monsters were still busy working on construction, and a bunch of monsters didn't require sleep anyway. Frisk would only be a few minutes, regardless.

Frisk was intending to go up to the surface when they stepped out of the house and into the chilly air, but angry shouting and shuffling from directly above them distracted them to the point of no return. They were only a child, after all, and now that their attention had been grabbed by something else, they had to see what it was. Now that it was in option, it had to be explored.

Frisk shuddered at the thought, for they've had it several times before.

Disregarding that eerie familiarity, they sauntered forward slightly, looking straight up to see where the noises of distress and anger were coming from.

Frisk nearly leapt back five feet when they saw that a fairly tall human plunging down to the soft yellow flowers below; they looked to have been pushed violently, hitting their head on the way down with a loud and sickening _crack,_ shortly followed by a splash and a disturbing amount of blood. The human smacked into the ground at full force, their arms bent at awkward and unnatural angles.

For a second, Frisk didn't know how to react. That was most certainly a human, but... Had the human died? It looked like they were pushed, so did that make it murder? Was there a murderer this close to their home? What were they to do now? What if mom got home right now? What would they say? After taking a moment to calm themselves down after the unexpected and unfortunate event that just unfolded in the span of a second or two, the child took a deep breath and clenched their small quivering fists. Reluctantly, Frisk neared the unmoving mess of limbs and blood, unintentionally making a disgusted face as the wound on the side of the injured humans head oozed onto the earth below them. With that much blood coming out, and with that amount of force with which they hit their head into the wall… there was no way they weren't dead. They weren't breathing at all. They were still as stone.

And then the human twitched, at first slightly, as a spider would after you've smashed it up against a wall with your shoe; and then they spasmed, flailing around almost demonically as they desperately attempted to right themselves from such a painful position, and correct the placement of their limbs, shaking intensely and breathing in short, ragged breaths.

 _Thank goodness you're alive!_ Frisk thought to themselves happily, completely disregarding the disturbingness of this particular scene for the optimistic outlook that they could now take care of them before mother returned home. Gently, Frisk ran up beside the other human, who was dressed in tattered clothes and looked to have been in a fight recently. The human didn't even notice Frisks' presence. Their bloodied golden hair, much shorter than Frisks own cut, had plastered itself to their face by what looked to be sweat and blood. All in all, they appeared to be really torn up, especially with that gaping gash down the side of their cranium.

That wasn't a problem. Frisk prided themselves in taking care of others, and often had to treat monsters with similar injuries. Of course, her mother was the one who performed the healing magic… nonetheless, the child was adamant on getting this person back to their house and taken care of. But before they could even try to get the injured human's attention, their bloodied face un-scrunched itself from its pained expression and they succumbed to their blood loss and trauma, collapsing gently forward and letting out a pained noise. They were still breathing (which was good, because it was very scary when they weren't), but they had fallen asleep rather quickly. Without a moment's hesitation, Frisk knelt down and lifted them by their arms, dragging them to one of the friendly Froggits who had kindly offered to help carry them to Toriel's. Frisk was going to fix this human.

They were determined to do so.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oops its like 20 pages sorry all the chapters are probably gonna be like that :P**_

 _ **Anyways? If you're into reading fucked up shit? And a depressing/dark storyline? Stick around and leave a review! I love those things man. The reviews I mean. Constructive feedback is highly recommended (not flaming/harassing, I trust yall know the difference) but a simple "Good job" or "anticipating the next chapter" would be nice so that this fic doesn't end up like the twelve unfinished ones I have :,D**_


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